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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027826">We were staying in Paris...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_lennonade/pseuds/strawberry_lennonade'>strawberry_lennonade</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Beatles (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1961, Awkward Boners, Awkwardness, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Dirty Thoughts, Don't Like Don't Read, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Gay, Kinda, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, McLennon, Paris - Freeform, Period-Typical Homophobia, Road Trips, Sharing a Bed, They need to keep it a secret now, based, but based on the Paris trip, its fictional, john loves him back though so it’s okay, lol, paul is totally simping for john, so sssshhhhhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 03:47:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29027826</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_lennonade/pseuds/strawberry_lennonade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul and John realise that their love is not platonic when they run away together to Paris to celebrate John’s 21st birthday...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Lennon/Paul McCartney</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We were staying in Paris...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>****this isn’t actually what happened on John and Paul’s holiday to Paris.... historically accurate??? Who’s she??? Yeah this is just a product of my imagination based on the Paris trip in 1961****</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="u">
    <strong>
      <span class="s2">30th September 1961</span>
    </strong>
  </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Paul woke up and rubbed his tired eyes, to the sound of the phone ringing downstairs. He ran his hand through the messy raven mop on top of his head and slumped downstairs to answer it. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hello?” He yawned wearily. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oi McCartney! It’s about time. I rang you three times, ya git!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh hey John, what do you want?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ya wouldn’t believe it! I just got a hundred quid of me family In Scotland, for me birthday.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah... and? Did you really just ring me up to say this?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“...and I was planning to take you to Spain macca, for me birthday.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Me???? Spain!?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Today...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Today?!? We have a gig tonight, we can’t just go...how are we even going to get there??”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Hitchhike?? Come on macca! Just me, you and the sunny spain. We can run away together!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“But the band....”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fuck the band! It’s a week or so alright, it won’t matter to them!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“But John, why me.... why not stu, or George, or Pete?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Because I want to spend my special birthday with you Paul... you mean more to me than any of those fuckers. Even Stu.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I don’t know whether I should take that as a compliment....”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Please macca...It me 21st!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Alright then.... “ Paul sighed defeatedly. “I’ll see you in an hour...and should I tell the boys?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Nahhh fuck ‘em. None of their business anyway. And don’t forget to bring a bowler hat, helps us to get a lift. But wear yer leathers, just in case we see some chicks.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Paul walked over to John’s house at half 10 and knocked on his door. He stepped out with a guitar on his back, a briefcase in his right hand and a cigarette in his mouth. John scraped his gelled brunette hair back, to tidy it up and followed Paul down the driveway. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“John!” Cried his aunt Mimi, stopping him in his tracks and holding something black in her hands. “Glasses! You won’t even make it down the road without getting hit by a car if you forgot them.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Aye cheers.” He rolled his eyes as he snatched them out of her hands and put them on. John jogged down the driveway to catch up with Paul, who was waiting on the other side of the gate and as soon as he got 10 feet away from the house, he took his glasses off and stuffed them in the pocket of his black leather jacket. John suggested they walked towards Liverpool airport as it was busy there and had more chance of getting a lift. When they arrived, they stood in the rainy and cold climate of Liverpool to wait for a potential chauffeur. Luckily, a lorry pulled up beside them not long after. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Alright mate, can ye give us a lift?” John asked, attempting to be polite by taking off his bowler hat and bowing. Paul, stood behind him,trying so hard not to laugh at the fool that his best friend was making of himself. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah sure, where ya guys off to?” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Spain.” Paul said quietly. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yer bloody mad! I can’t give yer a lift to Spain. Yer right next to an airport, why don’t ya try the airlines?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I can’t afford it mate.” Shrugged John. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Alright, I can give ya a lift as far as Birmingham. I hope that helps ya lads.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yeah that’s gear cheers mate.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Paul and John threw their luggage into the lorry and got in. When they got to Birmingham, another man gave them a lift to Southampton, a whole 997 miles closer to their destination. The man was a nice old brummie fella, who let the boys sing and play guitar in the back of the Morris minor, even joining in on the songs that he knew. He mentioned that he was planning to drive around Europe as he wanted to get away from England. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Sorry boys, I’d love to drive you there, but I have family in Paris, I was planning on visiting them first.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I understand. How will we get across the channel?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">The man laughed. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I didn’t say I was dropping you off here you idiots! You will never get any closer otherwise! Look, I’ll drop you off in Paris. Maybe you could get the train from there.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh yeah that will be awesome thanks.” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">When they got to Paris, They were very tired and it was getting dark. So they decided to stay in Paris for the night. They looked around for a hotel to stay in as there was no point in exploring Paris in the dark.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Uhhh hello? Hotel?? Hotel... nearby???” Paul asked a very confused french man, while John was attempting to flirt with a pretty, blonde woman sat outside a cafe. The woman then got up, hit John around the head with her bag and ran off, not even paying for her coffee. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Je ne parle pas anglais!!!” He screamed back at Paul, leaving them to search for somewhere to stay for the night, on their own. Paul was getting agitated, his briefcase and guitar weighing him down. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“John? Paul?” A voice called out across the road. They looked to see their old friend Jürgen, who had hair like a mod. “What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ayyy Jürgen! We are on holiday...well not yet... we are hitchhiking to Spain and decided to stay here for the night.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I know a little hotel down the road. I’m good friends with the manager, maybe he could get you a room?” </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh thank god, I’m shattered!” Sighed Paul in relief that he wouldn’t be sleeping on the streets tonight. The three walked to a little hotel down the road. Jürgen asked the manager if there was a room free for his friends in fluent french. He said that there wasn’t any free, but because it was late and the boys had spent the day travelling, he would let the boys stay in a spare room in the loft. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Enjoy your stay!” He cried, handing them the room key. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Ah finally a bed! Maybe we should stay here for a whi-“ Paul entered the room and froze to see a toilet and wash basin in the middle of the room. Then his eyes wandered to the corner of the room, where there was one <em>single bed</em></span>
  <span class="s2">and his stomach dropped. He nervously looked over at John, who was clearly unbothered by the situation. John immediately ran over to the bed and flopped onto it, leaving Paul with no choice but to sleep of the couch. He threw the briefcase onto the sofa, rested his guitar against it and sighed as he sat down. John, who was laying on the bed, was staring at Paul, feeling somewhat hurt and upset by the fact that Paul wasn’t willing to share the bed with him, even if they topped and tailed.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Pauuulll.” John groaned at him, his head leant back against the headboard. “Are you coming to bedddd?” Paul felt a strange and new feeling inside his stomach from those words, something he would have felt when he was around Dot. He blamed it on homesickness and dismissed it. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“John, I’m not sharing a single bed with you. That’s queer!” But some part of him wondered what John’s arms would feel like around him, all snuggled up in the tiny bed, the feeling of those soft looking lips on his.... he shook himself out of his thoughts before they got any more sinful. “I’m not queer!!!” He reassured John... but also himself. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Paul.. yer will never get to sleep on that sofa...it looks so fucking uncomfortable.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Fine... just don’t think any queer thoughts will you?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Can’t promise that hun...” Paul’s mind wandered back to what John would taste and feel like... he felt a tiny bit of excitement and his stomach fluttered as he approached the bed... and his tight drainpipes suddenly felt a bit tighter. He awkwardly pulled the sheets down and got in bed next to John. Then he felt his soft and pale arms wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. Paul tried to get his hands between them to pull John off of him because he was uncomfortable and wanted to get as far as he could away from John right now, but partly because he didn’t want John to notice what was going on down below, so John could mock him, call him ‘queer’, tell all of the boys when they got back and never speak to him again. He really didn’t want to lose John because of this... </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Paulie, snuggles.” He said softly, pulling Paul into a tighter hug. Paul gave in and put his arms around John loosely. Not even a minute later, John was peacefully sleeping. However Paul was really not. His mind was going places that it never should be and he couldn’t rest with his shameful and achingly hard member. John’s breath tickled his neck, making this situation even worse. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“John...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">John’s sleepy eyes slowly opened. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I can’t sleep, John...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Awwww does little Paulie want his daddy to kiss him goodnight and read him a bedtime story?” John joked patronisingly. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No! Fuck off John, I’m not 5!!!” Paul punched his arm, making John laugh, throw off the sheets and pin him down on the bed.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh you wanna fight Paul...huh.” He joked.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Bring it on you git!” Paul laughed.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">John’s eyes wandered down his body as he kneeled above Paul, then stopped... and widened in horror. Paul stopped laughing, realised what he was staring at and gulped.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Shit John! I’m sorry it isn’t my fault... I was thinking of Brigette y’know... happens to the best of us!” His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, wanting to get away from John right now, more than ever. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Don’t lie to me, McCartney....”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“John.... I can explain...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh James...There’s no need to explain....”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Paul felt tears running down his cheeks. John had never called him James before. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“John I’m sorry!! Just please!! Don’t tell the boys.... or me dad or brother!!! Just keep this between us yeah? It was an accid-“</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">Paul was shushed by John’s soft lips planted on his. The feeling of his lips didn’t last long as John pulled back in panic. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh god Paul... I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done that....”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“No it’s fine... it’s what I wanted anyway.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Me too... for a while now... but Paul, are you sure you want this?” John asked, realising the consequences of this, the effects it would have on the band, the boys’ families, their girlfriends, the fans....</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Yes...” Paul whispered softly. “So much....” and then they realised none of that mattered right now. The only thing that mattered was them and the blossoming love between them. John smiled widely as he sealed the gap between his and Paul’s lips, Paul kissed back this time, slowly and tenderly, appreciating the moment while it lasted. John flipped over so he was laying on his back, dragging Paul on top of him. Their lips reconnected, this time more messy and passionately, the kiss full of need and desire for each other. John pulled off Paul’s white t-shirt and drainpipes, exploring his perfect body with his skilful hands. His hands then settled at his waist as Paul welcomed his tongue into his mouth. After a few minutes, Paul pulled away, to admire his lover, lips red and swollen, brown eyes full of love gazing up at him. John was the one to break the silence. </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“How long, my darling...”John asked with a soft voice, caressing Paul’s chubby cheeks.</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Well... y’know.. it’s been about a year now..”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“And you didn’t say anything.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I didn’t think you would have wanted this... y’know, being all tough and masculine and that.... what about you??”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Since the 6th of July 1957, Paul...”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“The day we met!?!”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“What can I say luv, I was attracted to that pretty face of yours... oh and your guitar playing of course.”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“Oh Johnny....I love you.....”</span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s2">“I love you too baby...” John reached up to give Paul a small peck. “now let’s take care of this situation here....” He said with a smirk...</span>
</p>
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